


Month three

by lucasdias960



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18683632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucasdias960/pseuds/lucasdias960





	Month three

Month three of Scott and Derek’s – thing – rolls around, and Scott still has no idea what they’re doing.

Mostly, they fuck. Scott will call a pack meeting, and Derek will glare at him silently from a corner the entire time, contributing nothing even when Scott asks for his opinion. He’ll stay after everyone has left, surly and defiant even as he strips them both down and pushes Scott to the couch and lowers himself onto Scott’s dick.

Or they’ll be in the middle of a “situation” (as Deaton calls them) with some supernatural big bad roaming Beacon Hills yet again, and Derek will defy Scott’s orders and run headfirst in to danger, until Scott roars at him with the full force of his alpha powers behind him. And Derek will hit his knees in front of Scott and fumble desperately at Scott’s belt until he’s swallowing him down, Scott clutching at Derek’s shoulders and doing his best not to choke him.

Or Derek will show up in the middle of the night, teeth bared and eyes feral, and bite and scratch and snarl at Scott until he pushes him down rough enough to leave bruises. Until Scott uses one hand to keep Derek’s head pinned to the bed and another to prep him quickly. And Derek will leave with bite marks and broken skin but looking – well, not at peace, but something close to it.

Stiles joked once that Scott’s fucking Derek into obedience. The idea had made Scott stop dead, nausea and horror churning in his gut. He doesn’t think that’s what this is. But he doesn’t know for sure, either.

So he tells himself that it’s the last time, that he’s not going to do this again without talking to Derek and trying to figure out what’s going on in his head. But every time he tries to coax Derek into communicating, he shuts down entirely and leaves, stiff and tense and far too brittle. And when Scott sees him next his eyes will be empty.

Scott can handle an angry Derek. He can handle Derek being aggressive, and reckless, and being a general pain in the ass.

But he can’t bear it when his eyes look dead.

So Scott learns not to question. He does his best to read what Derek wants from the angle of his body or the way his jaw tightens or brow creases. He keeps tabs on Derek’s scent and when it turns sour with frustration or mellow with satisfaction. Derek won’t let Scott hold him or cuddle him afterwards, but sometimes Scott can steal a kiss or a quick hug and Derek will relax, just slightly, into the touch.

Month three of Scott and Derek’s – thing – rolls around, and suddenly everything changes.

They’re at Derek’s apartment. Scott’s gently thrusting into Derek, refusing to go hard even when Derek growls commands at him. They didn’t prep enough because someone was in a rush and Scott doesn’t care if Derek will heal faster than a human, he’s not hurting him.

“Scott,” Derek snarls, frustration in every line of his body. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“I’m pretty sure I mean it,” Scott says, slowly rolling his hips forward so that he hits Derek’s prostate dead-on, punching the air out of Derek’s lungs.

“You – know – what I’m talking about,” Derek snaps, nails sinking into Scott’s back and ass as if he thinks he can force Scott into thrusting harder.

On impulse, Scott catches Derek’s wrists and pins them above his head. He sinks his other hand in Derek’s hair, yanking the beta’s head back and exposing the long column of his throat. Derek exhales harshly, the end of a moan catching in his throat, and goes completely limp in Scott’s hold.

A little alarmed, Scott scents Derek quickly, but he smells of arousal and want without any hint of fear or stress. Scott keeps his hand fisted in Derek’s hair and brushes his lips along his neck, and Derek arches into it as he comes suddenly. The feeling of Derek’s muscles tightening around him sends Scott over the edge as well.

Panting, he rests his head on Derek’s chest, careful not to collapse completely. After a moment he tries to pull out but Derek lets out a sub-vocal whimper, crossing his legs so that Scott can’t escape. Surprised, Scott stays where he is, and drops gentle kisses on Derek’s collarbone, his jawline, the hollow of his throat.

Derek hums quietly, eyes closed. It’s the most relaxed he’s ever seen the other man. The lines between his brows are gone, tension completely drained from his body. When Scott releases Derek’s hair to stroke through it in apology for pulling so harshly, Derek keeps his head tilted back, throat bared. 

Scott stays in place until the drying of sweat and other bodily fluids gets too uncomfortable, and slips away to clean up. He comes back with a damp towel. Derek hasn’t moved, and Scott cleans him up with gentle swipes, pleased when Derek doesn’t bat him away like he usually does. 

He tucks the blankets around Derek, stands, and hesitates. Usually, his is when he leaves. Early on he’d tried to stay but Derek had treated him to pointed glares and not-so-subtle hints to leave. Not wanting to cross any boundaries Scott had taken to leaving immediately.

But Derek looks unusually vulnerable at this moment, eyes closed and head turned to track the sound of Scott’s footsteps, and Scott finds he can’t bring himself to go.

Instinct had gotten him this far. So Scott follows his gut and slips under the blankets, pulling Derek to his chest. Derek turns and curls into the embrace, tucking his head in the space between Scott’s shoulder and head.

He gives Derek several long minutes of silence, rubbing one hand up and down his back soothingly. “Can you tell me what that was about?”

Derek exhales shakily, pressing his forehead against Scott. For a moment Scott fears he’s pushed too much, but then Derek says, in a rush, “I want to be good for you.”

“You are good for me,” Scott murmurs, one hand still carding through Derek’s hair. “You’re always good for me.”

“No, I’m not,” Derek whispers. “I fight you. I don’t listen. I never do anything right.”

“Derek.” Scott swallows down a growing sense of panic. “You haven’t been doing this because – because you felt like you needed to make up for anything?”

“No!” Derek growls. “It’s not like that. I wanted to. I – I needed to.”

“Okay,” Scott says. “Is this a – a wolf thing?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I think it’s a – me thing,” Derek says, voice muffled from the way he’s pressing against Scott, as if trying to sink into his skin and disappear. It’s sweet and a little heartbreaking, so Scott holds him tighter, tucking Derek’s head under his chin.

He mulls over what he knows about Derek. The barely-concealed relief on his face when Scott takes charge as his alpha. The way he struggles with trust and relinquishing control, but at the same time so desperately seems to want to give in. How he holds everyone at a distance, with the wariness of someone who has been used and betrayed one too many times. His growing trust for Scott, how he looks almost calm when Scott has a hand on his neck, how he doesn’t fight when Scott pins him down or holds his wrists, even in the loosest grip. 

“In the morning, we’re going to talk about this, alright?” he tells Derek. “And we’re going to figure out what you need, using words, and I promise I won’t – judge you, or ever use it against you. Ever. Okay?”

“’Kay,” Derek says after a brief pause.

“And I’m taking you to the movies,” Scott adds.

Derek huffs, pulling away to look at Scott with one incredulous eye. “What.”

“I’m taking you to the movies,” he repeats firmly, half-smiling. “As in for a real date.”

Derek goes back to burying his face in Scott’s chest. “No romcoms. Or sad ones,” he says at last, and Scott grins at the wall and does his best not to punch the air in elation.


End file.
